There is no Monday Mirth today, my friends, because this weekend I heard the news that my Aunt Florence had died. She would have been ninety years of age in May; sadly she was too tired to wait.
Florence was my father's youngest sister, one of six children. She never married but continued to live in the house where she was born. She was a staunch churchgoer and some would say she was unadventurous, yet looking back I remember she was the one who regularly went on holiday, having coerced her friends to accompany her. The next photograph leads me to believe that she was a bit of a drama queen in her younger days.
Rest in Peace, Florence.